Today, on my way to lunch, I realized I no longer want to be immortal. I would still like to see the sun go supernova in a few billion years, and witness the collision of the Milky Way and the Andromeda galaxy a couple billion years after that. But passing through the intervening millennia has lost its appeal.

In fact, I'm kinda glad I don't believe in an afterlife. I'm soured on the whole notion of perpetual existence. Sign me up for a heapin' helpin' of nirvana, please. I want to end.

No, I'm not suicidal. The next thirty or forty years are mine and I intend to use every second I can squeeze out of them. But beyond that, I think I'll pass. Too damn much trouble. I just want to see Halley's Comet again. I missed it the first time.

I wouldn't mind reading a summary of how it all turns out, though.